Disclaimer: Harry Potter and his world belong to J.K. Rowling. This story belongs to me.

A/N – Hello! Another update is here, and quickly too! Thank you so much for your responses to the last chapter - you're all amazing! This one is definitely shorter than the last one, but full of action, just like I promised, though perhaps not exactly in the way you expect. It gets quite intense towards the end though, so be prepared. Oh, and I hope you like it!


~Strength in Weakness~

The Fight


Harry glanced nervously around at the other passengers on the bus, sighing to himself as he tried to control his fear and nerves. It was quiet, so the bus - much like the train had been - was relatively empty of other people. Harry couldn't relax though, no matter how many times Snape told him to calm down. The train ride had gone without a hitch – helped in no small part by Snape's infamous glare - and they'd managed to catch a Muggle bus not far from the station in London that would take them within five minutes walking distance of Grimmauld place.

Harry looked out of the grimy bus window as he took another deep breath to steady himself, making a real effort to convince himself that they would be okay, that they were almost there. Harry closed his eyes briefly, running a shaky hand through his messy hair, but for a moment, a brief moment, it all felt a little too much, and he felt despair rise up in him like a tidal wave.

Harry gritted his teeth. Merlin, it didn't help that his head was killing him.

It had started when they'd first gone on the train, and it had been building ever since; now it felt as if he had a million little knives stabbing at his brain, and it was all he could do not to show it on the outside. Harry didn't want to say anything to Snape, mainly because he thought that they both had quite enough to be worrying about already, but he was beginning to think that something was very wrong. Harry closed his eyes again, almost willing the pain away, but it had little effect. He knew he should probably trust Snape, that he should probably tell him about it, but – and Harry couldn't believe he was actually thinking this – he didn't want Snape to worry about him, not when they needed to concentrate on getting to safety.

Harry sighed to himself as he clenched his fists, trying to distract himself from the pain pounding at his head. Why was nothing ever simple?

"Potter…"

"Hmm?" Harry responded, trying to concentrate over the thudding in his mind. He turned to face Snape, who didn't even try to conceal his concern.

"We need to get off at the next stop," Snape told him, his eyes boring into Harry's. Harry would have tried to use Occlumnency against the man, but he'd never quite learnt how to do it. He couldn't only hope that Snape respected his privacy enough to not snoop. Oddly, Harry actually thought he might…

"Potter," Snape snapped irritably, and Harry flushed slightly.

"Sorry," he muttered.

"Concentrate, please," Snape continued. "Once we get off, follow right behind me, and have your wand in your hand. As far as I am aware the Dark Lord does not know even the general location of the Order's Headquarters, but I'm not willing to take the risk. We will be cautious."

"Yes, sir," Harry replied, pulling his wand from his pocket. Oddly, he began to feel his headache ebb away slightly as he held the wand down by his side, and he couldn't help but feel a little stronger.

"Do not use it unless absolutely necessary," Snape told him, nodding down at his wand. An old man sat a few seats in front of them gave them a funny look, but Snape glared at him and he quickly turned around.

"Got it," Harry replied, his voice almost a whisper as his headache began to come back in full force. So much for that brief reprieve...

"Are you alright, Potter?" Snape asked, his concern genuine.

Harry fought the urge to shrug, since his shoulder was still painful to move. "I'm achy and tired. But I'm fine. I just want to get to Grimmauld Place."

And to Sirius, he finished in his head.

Harry didn't want to say anything in front of Snape, but he wanted to see Sirius more than anything in the world right now. It was all getting a little too much, and as pathetic as it was, he just wanted someone to hug him and tell him everything would be alright...

Soon. They'd be there soon...

Two minutes later, they finally got off the stuffy bus, and Harry revelled in the fresh air as they began the short walk to Grimmauld Place. As they walked, Harry thought back to the previous summer. He'd been so angry with everyone back then, but when he'd been picked up by the Order, and when they'd flown their brooms over London, Harry had finally felt alive for the first time for months. And when they'd arrived at Grimmauld Place, and Sirius had greeted him with open arms...

Sirius had looked so happy to see him. He'd had a smile on his face, and his red eyes had been gleaming…

Red eyes…

Harry stumbled, blinking hard. The pain in his head spiked, and he suddenly felt the urge to throw up. Oh, God, what had he done...

Harry stopped suddenly, bending over as he fought the urge to be sick. Snape turned and stalked over to him, but Harry held up his hand to stop him.

"Snape," Harry gasped, his hand still raised. "You need to get out of here. He knows…"

"What are you talking about, Potter?" Snape asked, his eyes boring into Harry's. Harry held his gaze, though his own eyes held nothing but fear.

"Voldemort knows where we're going," Harry ground out, "He knows where we are."

Harry had been thinking about getting to Grimmauld place. He'd even been think about the journey they'd made by broom to get their from Little Whinging. He'd as good as drawn a map...

"He saw it…" Harry continued, urging Snape to believe him. "In my mind…He's on his way…You need to go..."

Snape moved closer. "Don't be foolish, Potter. I'm not going anywhere."

"Snape, you have - "

The Professor glared at him. "Potter, I am not leaving."

Harry gritted his teeth as he rode another wave of pain. "He's coming..."

"Close your eyes, now," Snape said quickly, and Harry opened immediately, too terrified for words. Oh, Merlin, he was on his way, Harry could feel it…

"Do you trust me, Potter?" Snape said intensely.

"Yes," Harry replied with hesitation this time, his heart thudding wildly in his chest. He had seen the panic, the stress, the fear in Snape's eyes, but despite all that, Harry knew that Snape was his best chance of getting out of this situation alive. He trusted him…

"Keep your eyes closed," Snape ordered. "You must keep them closed at all times, until we are safe. The Dark Lord cannot be given the chance to see where we are again."

Without another word, Snape grabbed Harry's uninjured arm and began to direct him away. Harry didn't know where they were going, and it took all his self-control not to open his eyes, but Snape had ordered him not to, and after all that they'd been through in the last couple of days, Harry couldn't, and wouldn't, disobey the man now.

God, this was all his fault…

"Do not think about where we might go," Snape said suddenly, changing their direction again. Harry felt disorientated and a little queasy, but still he did not open his eyes. He was too scared of giving away their location again. The pressure in his mind was growing though, and it was all Harry could do to stay on his feet.

Five minutes later and it felt as if they had walked for hours. Harry could barely think anymore. He was trying to push Voldemort out but it was like catching smoke. Every time he thought he'd done it, two red eyes would appear in his mind again, and then the pain would start anew…

"Potter," barked Snape, and Harry could detect a touch of real desperation in the Professor's voice. "You must not think about where we might be going. It is imperative."

The man sounded out of breath, and Harry didn't blame him. Harry was using every ounce of energy he had left to keep moving one foot in front of the other.

"I…can't," Harry muttered, his head under so much pressure now that he was literally fighting to keep his eyes closed. "It hurts."

"Dammit, you must, Potter," Snape snapped, turning their direction once again. The pain was almost blinding now. "The Dark Lord is trying to get into your mind. He is trying to control you. You mustn't let him. Occlude, Potter."

"I can't," Harry mumbled desperately. "I never learnt how…"

Harry stumbled slightly as he lost his footing on some uneven floor that he hadn't seen coming, and he felt Snape lurch to catch him, holding him upright.

Red eyes burst into his mind again...

"Think of your friends," Snape ordered, stopping suddenly. Harry felt Snape move in front of him and grab his uninjured shoulder with a force bordering on painful. "Tell me about them. What do you do at the weekends at Hogwarts? Come on, Potter, think – "

"I…we just…we catch up on work mostly," Harry said, desperately forcing himself to do as Snape had directed. "Hermione makes us do it. Me and Ron…we mess about though, and she gets annoyed." Harry felt the pain in his head increase in force slightly, but he tried to push past it.

"Keep going, Potter," Snape prompted, sounding more desperate than Harry had ever heard him.

"Once…last year, me and Ron…we spent a whole day seeing who could make the best paper aeroplane without using magic. Not easy…when you've only got parchment to use. Hermione caught us though, and she was so mad…"

Harry trailed off when the pain in his spiked again.

"Potter, you must fight him," he heard Snape say, though the voice sounded far-away. "Tell me about your Godfather."

Harry was sure he'd misheard him.

"Come on, Potter, you imbecile," Snape snapped. "Think of your Godfather. Tell me about him. Now!"

"Why? You don't like him…"

"But you do," Snape said intensely, tightening his grip as he tried to keep Harry in his own mind. "Keep your eyes closed and tell me about him. Why does he mean so much to you, Potter?"

"He's my family," Harry replied. As he pictured Sirius' face in his mind, smiling for once, Harry felt the pain in his mind recede a bit. Whatever Snape was doing, whatever his plan was, it was working...

"That's it, Potter," Snape said, shaking him slightly. "Keep thinking about him."

"He loves me, you know," Harry replied, his thoughts almost at war. Red flashed again, but Harry forced himself to think only of Sirius. "I found that hard to understand at first, but he really does. When I stayed at Grimmauld Place over the summer, I had a bit of trouble sleeping. One night, when I got up to go and get a glass of water…"

Red eyes flashed in his mind again and again, and Harry groaned as the pressure spiked. Snape grabbed him as he began to fall forward, steadying him with a death-like grip.

"Keep going, Potter," Snape said forcefully. "Keep thinking of him. Tell me what your Godfather did."

"He was there in the kitchen," Harry ground out, making a monumental effort to force him mind back. "And he just sat me down, made me a hot chocolate and asked me what was wrong. When I told him, he told me about the nightmares he used to have, and how my dad used to sit up with him at Hogwarts when they got bad."

Harry remembered how he'd clung to that information. His dad...Sirius...

"Your godfather wouldn't want you to give up," Snape told him. "Your friends wouldn't want you to give in to him. Fight him, Potter."

The pain flashed again, so strong this time that bile rose in his throat.

"I can't…he's too strong."

"You are not like him, Potter," Snape said, shaking him slightly. "You're stronger. You have something he does not. Something he can never understand. Remember that, Potter! Think of that!"

And just like that, an image of Mrs Weasley broke into his mind, hugging him for the first time, almost like a mother. She morphed into Ron and Hermione, who had been there, by his side, every time that counted. And they made him laugh. Merlin, he never thought, growing up, that he would ever have friends like them, friends who could make him laugh. And Lupin, the quiet man, the kind man. Then there was Dumbledore, and McGonagall, and Sirius…

And Snape.

"We are still fighting, Potter!" Snape said, still gripping him, though Harry's body felt largely numb to it. "We always will. You mustn't let him have control, not now. Fight him. Show him what he is up against!"

"Argh..."

The force grew to an almost unimaginable level, but this time Harry was ready. He focused, harder than he ever had before, on a single image, one single memory; the one thing that never wanted to relive, and yet equally the one thing he never wanted to forget.

His parents' death...

It was the memory he was forced to relive every time he encountered a dementor, their last moments in light and sound and feeling. Only this time, Harry used it in a way he never had before. He watched as his father, so brave and strong, stood in front of an evil being he could never hope to defeat, willing to die to protect his wife and child. Ready to die, without even his wand to protect him.

Then he saw his mother, so strong, so resilient, standing in front of him, no fear in her eyes, only desperation, because she would do anything to protect her son. She would die a million times over if it meant he was safe. Harry surrounded himself in the memory, forcing Voldemort to watch as the wand was raised, as his mother was taken from the world. The baby in the memory cried, screamed, but Harry felt no grief, no fear.

He felt proud. They had loved him.

He loved them.

"You won't win, Voldemort," Harry ground out, and he felt Snape's grip tighten again. "You…you'll never win. Because there are a million mothers like her, all willing to die for their children. There are a million fathers, all willing to fight. We won't give in, because we have something you don't have. Something you'll never have."

The pain grew again, but this time Harry was ready for it. This time he mastered it, harnessed it.

"We have something worth fighting for, you bastard!"

And with an enormous effort, Harry forced every good memory he could think of to the forefront of his mind. Every time Ron had told a joke to try and cheer him up, every time Hermione had given him a hug when she thought he needed one. It was something Voldemort couldn't understand.

Friendship. Love…

"Argh!" Harry felt as if his brain was being pulled out of his skull, but he held on to Snape's arm as if it was a lifeline. He had to stay strong.

He had to remember...

And then the pressure was gone, and he could think again, and he could breathe again. Harry opened his eyes, instinctively knowing that it was safe now, that his mind was mercifully free once again. When his eyes met Snape's, Harry saw concern, and something that resembled pride, though that last emotion was gone before Harry could fully register it.

"I did it," Harry said numbly. "He's gone."

Then his legs buckled from under him, his eyes fell shut, and he knew no more.


A/N - So, it might not have been what a lot of you were expected, especially given the title, but I hope you liked it anyway. I wanted to do my own take on the possession scene, but without Voldemort actually trying to possess Harry. This was as close as I could get, and I hope you liked it. Please, let me know your thoughts. Too cheesy? Not enough violence? Were Snape and Harry still in character? Let me know! And as always, thanks for reading!